


Only So Far

by tsukibeam



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Flirting, Happy Ending, IgNoct, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Blood, very fluffy and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 12:45:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12984357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukibeam/pseuds/tsukibeam
Summary: Ignis fixes Noctis's tie before every state dinner because that's just their thing. Almost dying, however, is definitely not...





	Only So Far

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silverdrift](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverdrift/gifts).



> For Silverdrift, who requested: Ignoct...something that really pulls at my heart before giving me that happy ending (whether that's a 'happy ending' or just something romantic and sweet, or both).

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Noct.”

Noctis tried so damn hard to keep a smile from forming on his face as Ignis regarded him with a frown. He settled for a sigh instead and leaned against the wall beside him.

“What can I say, Specs?” Noctis tried for cool indifference. “You’re just much better at this stuff.”

“At nineteen years old, I’d expect you to at least be mildly competent at _this stuff_.” The words were disapproving but Noctis knew Ignis’s tells--the lightness of his tone, the casual lean of his body on one foot...Ignis enjoyed this as much as he did. “I’ve half a mind to make you do it again yourself.”

“And let your prince be seen a disheveled mess?” Noctis smirked and pushed off the wall, taking a few steps toward Ignis. “You’d never forgive yourself.”

Ignis, despite his still present frown, also stepped closer, until he reached out and bridged the distance between them. Noctis stayed utterly still as Ignis’s hand worked, undoing the sloppy knot of his tie.

“Perhaps,” Ignis said. “But the resulting tabloid article might shame you into properly learning how to tie your tie.”

Noctis slipped his hands into his pockets to hide how they twitched toward the other man. He wondered, briefly, if Ignis could feel how tense he was under the layers of his suit. “Maybe. But you’re still the best, so why bother?”

This time, Ignis’s lips quirked into a smile. “Much as I appreciate the flattery, Highness, it will only get you so far.”

And, Six, Ignis’s green eyes flicked upward and met Noctis’s. He barely remembered to breathe--it was a lot at once: Ignis so close, hands tugging at his neck; those _eyes_ and _lips_ and--Ignis glanced back down and Noctis swore his eyes lingered on Noctis’s own lips before lowering again to inspect his work.

“There,” Ignis said but didn’t lower his hands. Instead they found their way to Noctis’s shoulders to brush away some lint and straighten his collar.

“Passable?” Noctis had to force the words through his dry throat.

Ignis stepped back and Noctis did his utmost not to flush under the scrutiny of his inspection. “You’re a royal vision.”

It was easy to believe when Ignis said it. Five minutes ago, Noctis wouldn’t have thought he came even close to _handsome_. He had just thrown on the nearest suit he could grab from his closet and thrown it on.

So, now, Noctis _did_ flush. He ducked his head down to hide it; it was a little pathetic how wound up he was getting, how warm he felt.

Noctis looked up a moment later, feeling his heart jump as he got his first proper look at Ignis. It was a little unfair how beautiful he looked in his perfectly tailored suit, perfectly coordinated with pinstripes and a lavender pocket square that somehow brought out his eyes.

Noctis smiled because how could he not? “Same to you.”

Ignis made an embarrassed sort of noise, sucking in a breath. “I...Well. Thank you.”

They shared a tentative smile, Ignis’s softened in the warm glow of the entry way lights. It was a pretty image, one that had Noctis's stomach fluttering and his legs feeling like bricks. He wasn’t sure how he managed a step forward, but maybe it was the alive feeling the fluttering gave him. Ignis’s stare just had that effect, always.

But just like always, his nerves betrayed him and he went the wrong way, toward the door, breaking the spell.

 

* * *

 

The first sign something was wrong was the absence of coffee aroma drifting into Noctis’s bedroom. No sounds of clanging pans or the sizzle of bacon.

They’d had a long night; state dinners had that annoying way of just dragging on and on. So Ignis not making an appearance would be understandable; they were both exhausted by the time they had left the Citadel. Despite his own protests, Ignis _did_ deserve a break or ten every now and then.

But that was the second sign. Because whenever Ignis took a break, he’d send Noctis, Gladio and Cor messages. Ignis was a stickler for going through the proper channels so Noctis wouldn’t be surprised if his dad also received one.

There was no message.

The third and final sign, the one that had Noctis slowly ease himself out of bed, was that Ignis also didn’t answer his phone. Not the first time or even the fifth.

He padded into the kitchen, staring at his phone, waiting for Ignis’s name to light up on the screen. He stopped when he reached the end of the hall and saw the empty kitchen, the cold stove.

It just...felt _off_ , all of it. There was no explanation for it and something dropped into his stomach with each second that went by and Ignis _still_ didn’t call back. So he called Gladio who chuckled at Noctis’s worry, which absolutely _did not_ help his thrumming nerves.

“I’m sure it’s fine, Noct. Probably just sick in bed or something.”

“He didn’t clear his throat once last night.” Noctis frowned. “And you know Iggy. He’d call.”

Even when it sounded painful for him to speak because of his throat, Ignis _always_ called. And he never allowed himself to drink too much because...just in case...if Noctis needed him, or he was called to the Citadel, or...

“Gladio.” Noct’s apartment felt so, so cold, and he rushed back to his room, to the nearest heap of discarded clothes. “He’s not sick.”

Gladio was silent for a few seconds, like he was working out what Noctis was trying to say, and then finally, a heavy sigh. “I’ll go check out his apartment. _Stay where you are,_ Noct.”

Noctis didn’t actually hear the last part. He was too busy tripping his way into a pair of jeans and then a shirt with a suspicious stain. He _did_ hear Gladio’s sharp curse before he hung up and raced out the door, barely tugging his shoes on before he got in the elevator.

 

* * *

 

On the outside, the apartment building looked idyllic. Vines crept up the red brick facade and around the little iron balconies. Early in the morning, it was peaceful, with the chatter of birds to stir residents from their beds.

Noctis stopped, chest heaving, at the bottom step of the stoop leading inside. It was just his breathing, and those birds, as he told himself everything was fine. Nothing was wrong, because in this lovely quiet, nothing _could_ be wrong.

But then he heard the distant wail of a siren and was bounding up the steps before he could truly convince himself.

Gladio had arrived first because of course he had; he lived closer. So he was the first person Noctis saw when he barged through the door.

The second thing he saw, was the blood. Smeared along the floor, a bright red trail that led to the third thing: Ignis pressing his hand against his side, his face pale, his own breath coming out in heavy pants as he sipped at a potion.

Noctis stared at Ignis, feeling suddenly a bit weak in every part of his body. Blood was fine; he saw enough of it during training that it had never bothered him but...it had never been so much and had rarely been Ignis’s.

“Specs,” Noctis breathed, taking a hesitant step forward.

“I’m fine,” Ignis was quick to assure him but Noctis’s brain could not wrap around everything he was seeing.

“Better off than _him_ ,” Gladio scoffed with a pointed look off to Noctis’s side.

Noctis also looked, blanching at the unconscious man he found and maybe, _definitely_ , he’d have a million questions for what happened but all he could really think was that Ignis was injured-- _bleeding_. Questions could come later.

“I really _am_ fine,” Ignis said softly as Noctis sank onto his knees before him.

Noctis tried to be comforted by the words but he just...his eyes swept over Ignis, taking in the way his hand slowly loosened over his healing wound, and the half dried blood on his arm and crisp white shirt. The top couple buttons were undone, exposing pale skin and a slender collar bone.

And Ignis’s face--his bowed mouth, half open and sucking in long drags of breath; furrowed brow; hints of pain fading from his green eyes.

“Your glasses are crooked,” Noctis half heard himself say as he reached out, hands shaking from lingering adrenaline.

Ignis went utterly still as Noctis removed the glasses and cleaned them with that unlaundered shirt of his and then placed them back on. He didn’t pull away, just...let his fingers trail from the wire frames to Ignis’s cheeks to swipe at the red flecks on them.

Noctis heard Ignis’s sharp intake of breath and frowned, cupping his face. “You could have died.”

“I had the situation under control.”

Noctis peered down at Ignis’s wound, closed now thanks to the potion, and then back up--at Ignis’s open collar. “Maybe. But...”

But what would he do without Ignis? Ignis, who was his oldest friend, oldest helper and guide--who snuck him out for stargazing, who flirted with him over ties and doubled as a pillow in the late afternoon. What...how was he supposed to go on without that, if this morning had turned out any differently?

When Noctis looked back up, there was a definite flush in Ignis’s face. His own stomach started with that fluttering again. And his heart--he was sure his heart was about to fly out of his chest.

He heard Gladio clear his throat and excuse himself which was great timing because yeah, Ignis was right--flattery would only get him so far and _so far_ , he had almost lost Ignis without doing anything about _this_.

Noctis’s hands trailed down further, his thumbs brushing against the pink of Ignis’s lips and then--then he was leaning forward, pressing his lips against them, nerves long forgotten.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this was what you were looking for, Silverdrift! I'm a sucker for fluffy romantic endings so I had a lot of fun writing it^^
> 
> Find me on tumblr @tsukibeam and swoon over these boys with me!


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